The great hall was silent when the agreement was struck. A single candle flickered at the long table, casting sharp shadows across the faces of those gathered. On one side sat your father, the King of Men, and on the other, Simon Riley, heir to the Demon Throne. His mask was carved from obsidian, but his molten-gold eyes revealed everything: pride, restraint, and the simmering rage of a demon forced to bargain.
The war between humans and demons had raged for centuries. Too many lives had been lost. Peace could only be secured through something binding—something eternal. Marriage.
You stood beside your father, your heart heavy, yet your chin lifted with the dignity of a princess. You had seen Simon before, from a distance during failed negotiations, a towering shadow cloaked in danger. And now he was to be your husband.
The ceremony was swift, unadorned. No ballads, no roses—just vows etched into parchment and sealed with magic that bound two worlds together. When he slid the cold iron ring onto your finger, his hand lingered for a moment longer than necessary.
The first months of your marriage were filled with silence. He was a shadow, watching from the edges of your chambers, never speaking unless necessary.
Then the news came. You were with child.
The kingdoms rejoiced. Human and demon blood would unite in flesh, proof of lasting peace. But for you, it was no celebration.
At first it was exhaustion. Then fevers. Then pain that curled through your body like fire, leaving you bedridden and pale. The healers whispered that no human body had ever carried such a child, half-blood of demon and human.
Simon never left your side. The cold, ruthless demon prince the world feared became something else in the quiet of your chambers. He held water to your lips when you couldn’t drink on your own. He steadied you when your body trembled. When your skin burned with unnatural heat, he pressed his hand to your back, letting his dark magic siphon away the worst of it.
But the toll was visible. Your body weakened as the child grew stronger. Some days, you feared you would not survive.
One night, as storms raged outside the black spires of the Demon Palace, you awoke to find him seated at your side, mask discarded, his scarred face bare for the first time. His golden eyes burned, not with fire, but with fear.
"You’re breaking apart because of me," he whispered, his voice ragged. "Because of this child. I should have never let this happen."
His claws trembled as he held your hand. "If it takes you from me, there is no peace worth it."
And for the first time, Simon Riley—demon king bowed his head against your stomach, whispering words in the demon tongue, a prayer for your life and for the child within you.